


Sheer Delicacy

by sailboatsupernova



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Thrawn Trilogy - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Attraction, Awkward Situation, Clothing Kink, Crossdressing Kink, Dialogue Heavy, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Grinding, Groping, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Military Fraternization, Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, bottom!Thrawn, but only in chapter 3, thigh highs, top!Pellaeon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 00:57:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7597105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailboatsupernova/pseuds/sailboatsupernova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>He looked up to meet his own gaze as he turned himself to fully face the mirror again. He had an hour to himself before he had to get back to work. He had time to enjoy himself, draw his self-admiration out if he wanted to. That's what he had planned for.  </i><br/> <br/><i>At least he had before the muted warning lights started flashing two seconds before Pellaeon rushed in.</i></p><p> <br/>Everyone forgets to knock every once in awhile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I fought tooth and nail for this chapter. I... I honestly can't tell if it's good. Tbh I totally forced this thing out in two days cause I was so sick and tired of not writing at all but forcing things rarely has a good outcome for me. I don't know, but I'll be coming back and rereading it a few times so if there's any glaring mistakes I'm sure I'll catch them (or someone will take pity in the comments and point them out). 
> 
> But anyway, I've been sitting on this one chapter for a few days now, but I finally came up with enough continuing material to feel comfortable with posting it. Tags will be added along with each new chapter so I don't spoil anything, but as long as I can pull it off, I can _promise_ that it will be fully worth the wait.

Thrawn had always been a tactile person. He was never satisfied with just looking-- he always had to take it a step further. A smell, a taste, a _touch_. His curiosity could not be appeased until he let his hands caress over whatever had caught his attention.

It wasn't until he was older that he realized that some things were capable of caressing _back_.

He had not known what they were called--  _stockings, thigh highs_ \-- until he had already joined the Empire _._ His interest in them, however, had started much farther back in his life. 

He had been a newly made Commander in the CEDF when he first discovered them, packaged away in a crate of contraband. He had stolen a pair, desperate to know why people would pay for clothing so fragile. Chiss clothing, while designed with fashion in mind, was always created to be durable above all else. The sheer items that werein the crate were clearly meant to serve some other purpose. It seemed so pointless, so frivolous.

At least it had until he had tried them on.

The feel of something so delicate, so soft and smooth clinging to his skin was almost erotic. He fell in love. With the way they felt, how they looked on him, how he looked _in_ them. Everything.

That had been his first and only pair, and he had cherished them as he would his own ship. He had been forced to leave them behind when he was exiled, one of his few material possessions he had mourned the loss of.

Now in the present, there was little reason to grieve. Not when his collection had expanded by five times his original amount, each a different style and color.

The pair he was modeling right now in front of the full length mirror were of a plainer sort. Black, and without the frills of lace or patterns, the silky pair of thigh highs were one of his least expensive pairs. However they also looked amazing against his skin and worked wonders for his legs, making them look longer than they were and accentuating his musculature. 

Thrawn let his eyes travel up and down the length of the mirror with a teasing smile, taking in his figure in the reflection. There was a lot to admire, he decided as he let his hands skirt over his body. One slid over his chest and other slid downward onto his thigh where he let a single finger slip between the elastic at the top of the silky stocking and his leg, pulling it back and letting it snap against his skin. A hum of satisfaction escaped his lips at the sting. 

He slid his hand up to brush over the standard black underwear he wore with a slow blink. He wished he owned a nicer pair he could have matched with the thigh highs. They deserved better than regulation underwear. However buying a matching pair would break his one self-imposed rule regarding his dressing habits. Treating himself to the occasional pair of stockings was one thing, but buying panties was more than what he was willing to risk right now.

If someone discovered that the fearless Imperial leader wore women's undergarments underneath his pristine white uniform then moral would surely suffer. He was careful. Beyond careful, ordering only through businesses that made discretion their utmost priority. Even then he still used fake identities, and had the packages delivered to safe houses where he knew they would remain untouched until he could pick them up. He would not push his luck. After the war had ended, then perhaps he could allow himself the risk of ordering a full ensemble. Until then he would have to make due with the circumstances.

Not that it was a challenge.

Thrawn moved the hand that was feeling his underwear so it rested on his hip. Turning himself just enough to eye the curve of his own firm ass he admired himself from this new angle with the hint of a smirk pulling at his lips. Not a challenge indeed.

He looked up to meet his own gaze as he turned himself to fully face the mirror again. He had an hour to himself before he had to get back to work. He had time to enjoy himself, draw his self-admiration out if he wanted to. That's what he had planned for.  

At least he had before the muted warning lights started flashing two seconds before Pellaeon rushed in.

"Sir we're under attack--" Pellaeon's words broke off in an alarmed grunt as he stumbled to a stop. The sudden entrance startled Thrawn enough to freeze him in place, breath catching in his throat as his eyes flashed over to watch the other man in the mirror. Time seemed to come clattering to a halt. Pellaeon was floundering, mouth gaping as his eyes immediately went downwards to gawk at the material that covered Thrawn's legs.A long pause stretched out awkwardly before his eyes moved up the other man's backside to meet Thrawn's eyes in the mirror. Pellaeon blinked and suddenly seemed to realize what he was doing and a blush climbed up his face. Thrawn watched as Pellaeon's eyes darted around the room frantically before settling on staring at a spot on the floor. He could hear the man gulp and watched as Pellaeon shifted, stance widening. 

Thrawn felt numerous emotions well up in his chest. He could feel his heartbeat thundering in his body; panic, humiliation, and anticipation mixing together in a way that made his stomach curl. Force of will kept his mind from faltering, a desperate need to end this making his brain form words and his mouth move.

" _I will be on the bridge shortly, Captain._ " An iron will kept the phrase cool if not unusually distant. It was an offer of escape for Pellaeon. A reason to remove himself from this situation, a chance to _get out._

Pellaeon grasped at it like a lifeline, nodding a bit frantically as he continued staring at the floor. "Yessir," was all he managed to say, voice hitching, not even bothering with a salute as he turned on a heel and darted out of the room, the automatic doors just barely opening quick enough to let him escape without pause.

As the doors slid shut behind him Thrawn blinked. He let his eyes fall away from the spot Pellaeon had been standing in seconds ago and exhaled slowly. His mind was attempting to run in a million different directions at once, and even as he began forcing his body to calm down he couldn't help but focus on a few of the things his mind had taken interest in. The way Pellaeon's eyes lingered (and how eager they had seemed at the prospect, how they followed every curve and line of his clad legs with such rapid consideration), the gulping, the shift in stance--

The shift.

That seemed important.

Just a widening of the legs, a bit beyond what was normal, beyond what would be a comfortable resting stance. Why? Why would any man stand in such a way; why would he take the care to do so when he should be distracted by such an awkward situation?

As he came to an answer his eyes darted back up to stare at his own face in the mirror. Realizing he was wasting time he frowned at himself and began making his way to where his clothes were folded on his bed. They were under attack from an unknown enemy, and here he was undressed and contemplating his second in command's possible--

Arousal.

It was the easiest conclusion to come to, considering Pellaeon's reaction to walking in on him in such an undressed state.

The thought was a curious one but it was also one for later, after he had crushed whatever had dared attack into dust. Right now he didn't have time for that sort of thought, or the time to change out of the stockings as he snatched his pants up his legs.


	2. Chapter 2

Pellaeon could barely contain himself as he darted down the hallway after escaping the Admiral's room. The hall back to the lift was empty; he was grateful for that much because he had yet to wipe the shock from his face. As soon as he steps onto the lift he's mashing buttons-- first the one that will take him to the bridge, then the one that forces the doors to close. They shut silently and he took a moment to close his eyes and try to get himself under control. He mentally went over battle plans as he tried to regulate his breathing, desperately trying to think up preemptive measures that he could order and perform to prepare the _Chimaera_ for battle until Thrawn made it to the bridge. 

Breathing deeply through his nose he desperately tried to keep his mind on track-- on the upcoming skirmish and away from what he had just witnessed. It would do his crew no good if all Pellaeon could think about was long legs covered in black material and the few exposed inches of blue skin in between his thigh highs and a rather form fitting pair of underwear, and were they really regulation because Pellaeon's own underwear didn't look that snug, and holy hell how many squats did the Admiral do because he hand't seen an ass like that in ages and-- damn it! 

Pellaeon lifted his hand to his mouth-- careful to make sure this action could not be seen by the lift's security camera-- and bit down on the meaty part of his hand just below his thumb. The pain helped wilt his erection but did nothing for his blush. It would have to do for now; he could at least explain it away as being caused by the excitement of battle. A hard on would be significantly more difficult to explain away. 

Clenching his fist as he lowered it to heighten the sting, he spared a glance at the floor number. Almost to the bridge. The thought of dealing with a inexperienced crew in the heat of battle was enough to distance himself from thoughts of his superior, earning him a few precious seconds to compose himself. 

Mentally reminding himself that he wasn't a teenager-- while simultaneously pretending he had no idea why he would need to tell himself that-- Pellaeon straightened his posture as the lift doors opened and he walked out onto the ship's bridge with all the confidence an Imperial Captain should carry. Seeing the worried young faces of some of his crew made it all the easier to ignore the fresh memories still floating around in his head. Shaking off what was left of his previous nerves with a subtle shake of his shoulders Pellaeon slipped into his role as a leader. It became an easier role to slip into as he started ordering commands to an increasingly relieved crew. This is something he would rather deal with; battle preparations and commanding his crew, rather than dealing with his own mixed emotions. 

The precarious feeling of control he had garnered cracked in an instant as he heard the lift doors opening behind him. Instinct had him turning to face the Grand Admiral as he stepped off the lift and Pellaeon silently cursed at himself when he felt a trill of embarrassment mixed with arousal dart up his spine. _It hasn't even been two minutes since I left his room_ , Pellaeon realized with a sudden fascination that he begrudged himself for. Not even minutes since he had gotten onto the bridge and here was Thrawn, fully dressed with hardly a wrinkle to be seen in his uniform. The man was the pinnacle of perfection to be sure; only a couple of minutes ago was he undressed almost to the point of nudity (Pellaeon shivered at the memory despite himself) and now he was on the bridge fully dressed in record time. It was something to be admired despite the circumstances, except... 

_It had only been two minutes. No more than that._

As the Admiral approached him Pellaeon did some quick calculations and something wasn't adding up. While his experience was not as personal as Thrawn's, Pellaeon had some interaction with thigh highs. Enough to know that they were not something that could just but shucked off and tossed to the side in the heat of the moment. One wrong move or one careless tug could have put runs in the sheer material, or worse, full on ripping leading to holes. Thrawn was more conscientious than that, too careful and too diligent to let something like that happen to his things. There was no way for someone to remove thigh highs with the care they warranted, get dressed, and take the lift to the bridge in the short window of time Thrawn had. Which meant-- 

_Oh Force he's still wearing them._

Pellaeon's eyes couldn't help but glance down at Thrawn's legs for a split second as if he would be able to tell if he was actually wearing them or not underneath his pants. He could certainly imagine Thrawn on the bridge while in them, all cold confidence and power as he ordered his crew around, but underneath the perfect uniform was the sheer black material, dark elastic bands gripping the tops of his thighs-- 

Stars above he wasn't going to survive the next few minutes if he couldn't get his imagination in check. He locked his knees as a preemptive measure and straightened his posture as Thrawn approached. "Admiral," he greeted, proud that nothing sounded amiss with his voice. 

The Admiral gave him a short nod back in response. "Report, Captain." 

Nothing in Thrawn's voice gave away anything he could have been feeling or thinking but Pellaeon noticed that he wouldn't quite look at him. It was understandable, though it made Pellaeon's stomach drop in an unpleasant way. A part of him almost wished he knew what the Admiral was thinking after everything that had transpired; he hoped that whatever it was had nothing to do with his career. 

He swallowed the worry and forced his voice to stay calm and steady as he answered; twenty-two ships, more than likely a pirate gang that thought a single Death Star in deep space would be an easy target. Thrawn nodded once more and started down the catwalk towards the windows looking out onto space. A small wave of his hand bid that Pellaeon follow, and with a reluctance he hoped the crew did not notice Pellaeon obeyed the silent command. 

Surely Thrawn saw the anxiety on his face, or at least his blush. Standing next to the man causing it wouldn't help his situation. However it might look odd to the crew if they noticed he and Thrawn were avoiding each other-- especially if any of the others on the bridge managed to catch that his expression was a little off. No, to do as Thrawn wanted may not be easy but it was the best option he had. To refuse him anything would just cause more of a scene. 

Pellaeon took a deep inhale, attempted to center his thoughts on the battle, and tried to follow orders as calmly as he could. 

 

 

* * *

 

  

The battle had been much shorter than anticipated. For that much Pellaeon was grateful. He could have done without having to stay on the bridge until his shift ended, but luckily enough Thrawn had left shortly after the battle was over. " _I am going to my quarters_ ," he had said, voice low and tense in a way that made Pellaeon nervous. " _I do not want to be disturbed again unless there is an emergency_." 

Pellaeon had barely managed to force out a "Yes, sir." Thrawn had left for the turbolift after that and as embarrassing as it was Pellaeon couldn't help but to glance one last time at his legs as he left. 

It got easier to pretend today hadn't happened, but that didn't mean Pellaeon's mind never drifted away from his duties. Once he caught himself replaying the memories of Thrawn posing seductively in front of a mirror in his head-- a few times in slow motion-- before realizing that he was supposed to be studying the navigation computer, an officer who barely looked old enough to be on a Star Destroyer waiting for his response to a question regarding possible coordinates. 

The second he went off shift he was gone, trying to make it to his room before he did something truly embarrassing. He wasn't quite sure how he had survived that ordeal, but he had. Behind the locked door of his bedroom he allowed himself a sigh of relief as he stripped out of his uniform jacket and shucked his boots off. It wasn't over yet, but at least he was away from everyone and could let himself think without the risk of someone needing him. Thinking was the last thing he wanted to be doing but he knew that he had to at least get his thoughts straight and feelings under control. If Thrawn decided to address this with him he didn't know what he would do (other than attempt to jettison himself out of the nearest airlock), but if he didn't then he was going to have to work through this so he could at least function around the Grand Admiral. 

Tiredly rubbing at his face with both hands, he slowly let himself play over the memories and identified whatever emotion came up with it. There was nothing particularly complicated about it; there was embarrassment obviously, some mild humiliation at his own reaction to seeing Thrawn, and a healthy dose of fear for both his life and his job. Hell, there was even attraction, but that hardly surprised him. Beneath all of that though was the undercurrent of a gut-clenching thirst to see more. That was what had him so nervous. He could live with the others-- if Thrawn let him live after this, that was-- but such strong feelings of lust made him think this wasn't going to be something he could just push aside. He wasn't even fully sure if he wanted to push it aside. Unable to help himself, he let the images of Thrawn posing play through his mind again. 

He could imagine those covered legs thrown over his shoulders or, stars above, wrapped around his waist. Quite vividly. A soft moan slipped through his lips at the thought and his cock gave an interested twitch. Gods, he was weak. He didn't remember being like this with his previous flings, though he supposed he had never been in a situation like this before. 

He had to refocus, get his thoughts prioritized then decide what to do. The main question was would Thrawn confront him about this? As much as he hated it, his instincts said 'yes'. Well then, _when_? Now there was the real problem. What if Thrawn left him alone with his thoughts on the matter for a few days, or even a week? Pellaeon shuddered at the mere thought. He wouldn't be able to handle that, not in his current state. That left him with two options: bring it up to Thrawn himself or try to alleviate the need. 

The idea of even going to Thrawn to talk about what happened nearly made Pellaeon sick to his stomach. Which left him with option two. 

With a sigh he ran his hands up into his hair, silently debating with himself. There was always the risk of making it worse by giving in-- but if he just left it alone then it would definitely get worse. He had barely managed to stand near Thrawn today, and he knew that there was no way it would get any easier. 

 _What the hell, might as well try._ He exhaled as he moved his hand slowly down his body, trying to convince himself that he was not absolutely desperate for this, and slipped it into his pants. It was easy to let his imagination wander as he began stroking himself off, images of Thrawn in dark stockings and too tight regulation underwear making him arch into his hand. Some small part of him knew that this was probably a mistake but Pellaeon was having a hard time regretting it. 


	3. Chapter 3

Pellaeon had thought he had been doing a good job of keeping his imagination in check. It wasn't perfect, but he managed to keep himself under control while on duty. For the most part. Juggling his feelings and reactions around Thrawn had been quite the balancing act, but he supposed he was pulling it off. Pellaeon was proud of himself in a way. His self control, it seemed, was hardier than he had originally thought. 

At least until a hand clasped onto his shoulder and a familiar voice whispered in his ear.

"We need to talk." 

Pellaeon had to mentally thank whatever divine beings were in charge that the hallway was empty because there was no way his panic at those four words did not show on his face. 

Two days. Thrawn had lasted two days before coming to Pellaeon to talk about what had happened. Well, it looked like he wouldn't have to worry about going to the Grand Admiral after all. Somehow the thought didn't make him feel any better about his current predicament. 

Another hand clasped onto Pellaeon's upper arm and lead him off towards one of the empty meeting rooms nearby. Panic swelled in his chest, but honestly Pellaeon was also slightly relieved at this point. Whatever was about to happen would probably be humiliating at best, but at least they were going to get the matter settled. Maybe now he could stop feeling like he was walking on pins and needles around the Grand Admiral and _hopefully_ get back to some semblance of normal. 

He was ushered into the room and into darkness, the light from the doorway cutting off with a foreboding feeling of finality as the door shut. Pellaeon kept calm though. The panic that was beginning to make itself comfortable in his chest was easily put off--

There was a soft _click_ in the darkness as Thrawn locked the doors. 

Ah, it seemed the panic wasn't so easily put off after all. 

Finally, with another tap on the room's control pad and the lights flickered on, dim and bleak. Pellaeon blinked, and immediately his eyes found the Admiral. 

There was no emotion on Thrawn's face. No anger. No disgust. Nothing. His lips were pursed tightly, and there was a stiffness to his posture that Pellaeon was sure meant something. His heart was pounding in his ears; it seemed so loud he wondered if Thrawn was capable of hearing it. 

"I want you to know that everything said in this room is officially off the record." His voice was purposefully cold. Pellaeon realized that this went beyond the simple cool professionalism the Admiral carried while on duty. _This is personal_ , Pellaeon's mind whispered. "It will be confidential, and nothing said will impact anything beyond these four walls." Pellaeon couldn't help but let his shoulders sag in some tiny relief despite how Thrawn was acting. _I will still have a job tomorrow, unless "off of official record" meant "your death will not be officially reported"._ Pellaeon tried not to think about that though, he doubted that Thrawn would even go that far. Maybe Thrawn would hit him, but he supposed that after walking in on the Admiral he had it coming. "Before anything else though, I must know one thing. Why didn't you comm me?" 

Pellaeon's small, hopeful relief swelled a bit more. This, he could answer. "I was on your floor already, sir. Practically in front of your door. It seemed easier in the heat of the moment to simply tell you." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, eyes shifting away from the Admiral as he continued. "I knocked first. You didn't respond so I will admit that I had assumed the worst. The door was already unlocked so I--" He swallowed, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath before opening them and meeting Thrawn's red ones. "I just came in. And I want to apologize with everything I possibly can that I did that. I had absolutely no right to enter your quarters without your explicit permission. I may have panicked when I received no response, but that is hardly an acceptable excuse, sir." 

He forced himself to continue to meet Thrawn's eyes with his own. If he was going to get punched then he was going to get punched with his dignity as intact as it could possibly be. Thrawn studied him silently in return, eyes moving over his face for what felt like hours. Finally Thrawn sighed and looked away. "I did not hear you." He blinked slowly; Pellaeon could all but hear the gears in his head turning. He almost felt ill-- all of this, simply because he had not knocked loudly enough. Still not looking at him Thrawn continued softly. "Thank you for apologizing." 

"Of course, sir. It is the very least I can do given the situation." 

Thrawn nodded. Silence stretched as he continued to stare off at some unknown thing, clearly thinking. Pellaeon stayed quiet, unmoving as he watched Thrawn. He was silent for an oddly long time, and Pellaeon thought that he seemed pensive and just a bit distressed. Whatever he was considering, it was clearly unpleasant. He hoped that it was nothing too serious, in regards to both Thrawn's and his own well-being. 

"Pellaeon," Thrawn said, voice soft, uncharacteristically quiet, pulling the other out of his thoughts. "You have not told anyone about this, have you?" 

Understanding finally dawned on Pellaeon. That hadn't even crossed his mind; it never occurred to him that Thrawn would have thought of that either. His stomach dropped at the thought. _If it had been anyone else that walked into that room, someone with the intentions of an easy rise through the ranks..._ He didn't even want to finish the thought. "No. No sir, never." 

Red eyes caught his own as Thrawn watched him, either looking for some kind of confirmation of truth in his face or hoping to catch a lie. Pellaeon stared back, trying to assure the other. 

"Really?" Thrawn hummed, face still looking pinched. "It would have made for some quality blackmail if you had." 

Anger flared up in Pellaeon's chest. Is that what the Admiral thought of him? Of course Thrawn was correct, it would make excellent blackmail material, but did he really think that Pellaeon would threaten the Empire, threaten _Thrawn_ in that manner? "Do you truly think so low of me?" 

"No, I do not. A simple off-color comment was all that was." Something must have shown on Pellaeon's face though, because Thrawn's frown deepened and he turned to fully face the other man. "Pellaeon, trust is such a fragile thing and I do trust you. Previous comment aside, I would like to believe that my judgement of another's character is better than that." 

Pellaeon's anger deflated at that. He wouldn't have been where he was today if Thrawn didn't have at least some faith in him, after all. "Has it been wrong before, sir?"

"No. Though it helps that only one other person has earned my trust before." 

The thought of someone else seeing Thrawn in such a compromising position flashed through his mind. "Did they have this same sort of trust you are placing in me?" Too late did Pellaeon realize how that had sounded, how his tone had sounded. Stars above, he sounded _envious_. Envious of some stranger that surely had worked just as hard as Pellaeon had to earn the Admiral's trust. Gods, what was he, a _child_? 

An odd expression crossed Thrawn's face. It turned thoughtful and he tilted his head as if studying Pellaeon from a different angle. "No," He answered, taking a step away from the door and towards Pellaeon, arms crossing in front of his chest. "Why do you ask?"

There was something in Thrawn's voice that made him blink. Something that had an almost teasing quality to it, but Pellaeon refused to believe that it was nothing more than his imagination. It did make him realize how inappropriate this conversation had turned. He had no right to be asking his commanding officer about the people he had been close to in the past, certainly not after his breach of privacy only a few days ago. Certainly not when he couldn't quite stamp out the small flare of annoyance he felt towards whoever this other person was. He shook his head in dismissal. "No reason, Admiral. I'm sorry if I overstepped any boundaries again, I didn't mean to pry, sir."

"No apology necessary, Captain. Answers are not guaranteed, but I do not mind if you want to ask about my past. Though I think we may be past the point of 'prying' wouldn't you say, Pellaeon?" 

"I-- what?" Thrawn had yet to stop walking towards him and had slowly entered his personal space. Pellaeon took a step back, and startled when his back hit something hard and unyielding. He glanced over his shoulder to see a meeting table that took up most of the room's space. His heart thudded at the realization that he was trapped and then almost stopped when he turned back around to see that Thrawn was once again within his bubble of personal space. He opened his mouth to say something else but Thrawn beat him to it. 

"I am going to ask you something else, Captain. I will not force you to answer, seeing as how it will be a personal question, but know that I am very interested in your response." 

 Pellaeon eyed the other, brain still trying to catch up with the turn this conversation had taken. He managed a small nod of acquisition though and that seemed to be all Thrawn needed. 

"Pellaeon, a few nights ago when you stepped into my room and saw me in those thigh highs, did seeing that arouse you?" 

"What?"

"Did seeing me in nothing more than a pair of undergarments and thigh highs arouse you?" 

If his brain wasn't having trouble processing the question before it certainly was now. If he didn't know any better he would have thought that Thrawn was doing this on purpose-- then again, did he know better? He stared at the alien with wide eyes and when Thrawn did not continue he realized that he was supposed to form an answer to that. 

"Well, sir, I don't really-- I don't think that this is necessary, do we-- should we really be discussing this--?"

"I know that it aroused me, Captain."

" _What?_ "

He had died. Thrawn had pulled him into this room and snapped his neck and now he was in some kind of afterlife. 

"You heard me," Thrawn said softly, watching Pellaeon as if he was studying him. Chances were that he was. He could only imagine what he was hoping to gain from his shocked expression. "I caught you staring at me multiple times on the bridge these past few days. As much as I enjoyed it, you're going to have to get control of yourself while we are in public. You may have not told anyone about my _activities_ , but I do not want them finding out due to longing gazes across the catwalk." 

" _You_ \--" Pellaeon coughed, trying to loosen his tight throat. Something about how Thrawn said "activities" made him feel like his uniform collar was attempting to strangle him. "You like being watched then?"

Thrawn seemed to freeze, the coy smile sliding off his face as he seemed to consider that. "I would not put it so broadly. I do believe that I enjoy being watched by you, however."

Pellaeon was most definitely dead, he was sure of it. Not only had he died, but the afterlife he had been sent to was clearly a good one. 

"You never did answer my question, Pellaeon." Thrawn murmured, as he leaned in towards the other, close enough that Pellaeon could feel his body heat through the uniforms they wore. Pellaeon could see the smile that was just barely beginning to stretch across the blue lips in front of him. Damn this man, he was teasing him. If Thrawn knew that he had been watching him, then he certainly knew what Pellaeon's feelings were on the matter. _He wants me to say it, to admit it._ At the sight of a tongue darting out to wet Thrawn's lips Pellaeon had to tear his eyes away and met Thrawn's eyes instead. _He doesn't want to be alone in this... attraction._

Pellaeon didn't bother with a reply. If the man wanted to tease, wanted  _validation_ , then he would _get it._  

He reached up, grabbed the back of Thrawn's neck, and before the alien could say anything he pulled him downwards and crashed their lips together. Thrawn froze in shock for a moment before melting against Pellaeon, his own hands quickly finding Pellaeon's shoulders to cling to him. Feeling Thrawn's fingers dig into his uniform is enough to make Pellaeon groan.

He slipped the hand on his neck around and grabbed a fistful of the white uniform's collar and pushed Thrawn away from him, panting as their lips separated. "You scared the shit out of me with this stunt you know?" He hissed. "Grabbing me in an empty hallway, dragging me into a room - you really know how to set the mood, don't you?" 

He could see Thrawn start to open his mouth to retort. Tightening his grip on Thrawn's collar he jerked him over just enough to make him take a step to the side and then Pellaeon deftly shoved his thigh between Thrawn's legs. The only response he received was a gasp and the hands that gripped his shoulders pulling him closer against Thrawn's chest. With a smirk Pellaeon pulled Thrawn back towards him by his jacket and pressed his lips by his ear and started talking. "You're right though, I never did answer your question earlier, and the answer is yes, Thrawn. I was absolutely turned on seeing you dressed like that."

He heard Thrawn gasp softly and felt his hips roll against his thigh. Pellaeon smirked, spared a second to press his lips against Thrawn's cheek before continuing. "Do you even know what you looked like? Of course you do, I remember the mirror you had set up, but do you have any idea what you look like from behind? Stars, Thrawn," he cut himself off, reached around Thrawn with the hand that wasn't holding his uniform and grabbed a handful of his ass. "Can you even begin to understand how hard it is to walk around behind you after seeing you like that? You talk about us having to be careful around the crew when you should just be grateful I didn't bend you over the nav computer." 

That earns a moan from the Admiral, and his hips start to rock against Pellaeon's thigh a little frantically. Well, he had always wanted to know what made Thrawn tick, but he never thought that this would be the subject matter. "That's it then? You need someone to hold you down, give you what you need?"

Thrawn moaned again, breathlessly, fingers clawing at Pellaeon's shoulders as he nods. 

"Yes? And what do you need, Thrawn? Someone to to _take you_ , is that it?  _Put you in your place?_ "

" _Fuck, Pellaeon!_ " Thrawn pulled away, pressing a hand flat against Pellaeon's chest to keep him from following him. "Not here, not _now_ ," he panted, face flushed as he glanced back at the door then off to the side where a chrono was mounted to the wall. "There's going to be a meeting held here in a few minutes. It would be in our best interest to be gone before then." 

Pellaeon nodded, swallowing. "Right," was all he could pant out, an arm sliding away from Thrawn's waist to prop himself up on the table.

He hadn't meant to get so into it, but he was glad that one of them had the sense to stop before things went too far. They needed some time to talk about this, to think about what they would be getting themselves into.

He glanced up at Thrawn, catching the other's eyes. Thrawn was already staring back, watching Pellaeon with something akin to surprise on his features. His eyes almost seemed to glitter in the dimness of the room and Pellaeon was tempted to ask if it was just his imagination or just something Thrawn's species did when turned on. 

Any questions floating through Pellaeon's head vanished when Thrawn leaned back down, lips pressed close to his ear. "After your shift ends I want you outside the door to my quarters." 

"Yes sir," Pellaeon answered, and Thrawn's resounding moan sent a shiver down his spine. He leaned back from Pellaeon's ear and quickly pressed their lips together one last time and while it didn't last near as long as the others it felt just as filthy. 

As quickly as Thrawn started it, the kiss ended with him pulling back. He kept one hand pressed to Pellaeon's chest as he stepped away, and the Captain was unsure if it was to keep him from going after Thrawn or to keep Thrawn from leaning back down to him. 

After a moment Thrawn finally stepped away, dragging his fingertips down Pellaeon's chest to his stomach, making the man shiver. Even after all that he still felt the need to tease.

Pellaeon huffed, but gave the other a half smile when Thrawn looked back at him. Thrawn gave him his own small smile in return before letting it fall from his face. A familiar tension returned to his shoulders and Pellaeon watched as the Grand Admiral stood before him once more. Blue hands began straightening and smoothing out the wrinkles of Thrawn's own jacket and for a moment Pellaeon considered offering to help. He doubted the Admiral would appreciate it; they both knew it would end up with one of them bent over the table and they had already been away from the bridge long enough. 

With a final tug along the bottom of his jacket, Thrawn spared Pellaeon one last glance before he turned back towards the locked door. Thrawn reached towards the panel next to the door, finger hovering over the unlock button. He turned his head to glance back at Pellaeon. "Do not be late, Captain," he said in a voice that was much too subdued given that they had just been rutting up against each other like teenagers. Pellaeon didn't respond as he pressed the button; there was a soft click and the door slipped open, then Thrawn was gone.

The light from the hallways disappeared as the door closed and Pellaeon let himself slump back with a sigh. He swore under his breath and couldn't help but shake his head in disbelief. That had gone unbelievably better than he had assumed it would. The hand that wasn't propping him up slipped into his lap to palm at his crotch and he groaned. So much better. Still grinding his palm against himself he glanced up at the wall-mounted chrono and grimaced. If Thrawn was right about that meeting then he needed to get out of here soon. With a grunt he dropped his hand and pushed himself off from the table. Carefully adjusting his uniform he headed towards the door, hoping no one would be on the other side of it just yet. 

Maybe if he could be quick about it he could even find some other abandoned meeting room and finish what they had started. 


	4. Chapter 4

After leaving the meeting room Pellaeon had been lucky enough to find an empty supply closet before someone found him, although he had debated actually taking care of his _issue_ for a good few minutes longer than he probably should have. If he came now, it would be release from the built-up tension but it also meant that his meeting with Thrawn later might require more foreplay than if they had just went at it in the other room. In the end he decided in favor of being able to concentrate on the bridge instead of simply waiting until his erection flagged, and within minutes he was cleaning his spend from his glove. 

A little foreplay never hurt anyone, but accidentally getting hard in front of his subordinates if Pellaeon's mind wandered certainly would hurt his reputation at the very least. 

His shift had been completely uneventful, and was spent mostly watching the time as it slowly ticked by. Simultaneously he was both desperate to see Thrawn again, and grateful that the man wasn't on the bridge where he would have to be constantly either avoiding him or ignoring his own body's desire to react. When his shift finally ended, Pellaeon had wasted no time in handing off command to another officer and going straight to the lift. 

By the time he's almost to the door that leads to Thrawn's personal quarters his stomach is in knots again. He cannot help but remember the last time he had found himself down this hallway, and what it has led to. This time he is not in a battle-fueled rush though, nor will he be entering the Admiral's quarters uninvited. Oh no, he had Thrawn's _explicit_ permission to enter. 

Pellaeon refused to let himself go as he had done in the meeting room. He is old enough to have some amount of control over himself and he will damn well act like it. At the very least, he will refrain from jumping the Admiral again. _Immediately jumping him, that is._ The thought brought a smirk to Pellaeon's face but it's gone as quick as it came. _Control_ , he reminded himself and he stabbed his finger into the release button on the doors panel. 

He entered the dimly lit room and the door closed behind him and upon hearing the lock click into place he leaned back against the door with a sigh. To finally be away from the many eyes of the crew was a relief and he felt like he could finally relax the tension in his muscles. His eyes slid shut and he scrubbed a hand across his face. He was that much closer to having Thrawn alone, in his arms, beneath him-- 

"You're late." 

Pellaeon's eyes flew open and they darted towards the voice, and found Thrawn leaning against the wall not even two feet away. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his shoulder pressed against the wall so he could fully face the other man. The Admiral had changed out of his uniform and is now wearing a thin gray robe. _And very little underneath it_ , Pellaeon though as his eyes were drawn to the triangle of exposed skin at Thrawn's chest where the sides of the robe met. He wondered if Thrawn would object to him slipping a hand beneath one of the flaps of his robe, just to see if his skin was as smooth as it looked. He considered it, but in the end decided against it and flicked his eyes back up to Thrawn's face. "It was only ten minutes. Were you standing there the whole time?" 

A slow nod is his response. "Regardless of length, unnecessary delay is unacceptable. Especially when you have someone waiting for you." Thrawn took a step towards Pellaeon, slid into his personal space with a tilt of his head. "Was the incentive lacking, perhaps?" 

"Hardly," Pellaeon murmured. He held out his hand, and after a slight pause, Thrawn obliged him by placing one of his own within Pellaeon's open palm. Fingers closed easily, pale around blue, and Pellaeon held Thrawn's hand in a delicate grasp. "You must know by now that nothing about you is lacking." He punctuated this by lifting Thrawn's hand up and bending down to press his lips against his knuckles. He kept it soft, light, and when he rises he can't miss the slight upwards curl of Thrawn's lips. 

"I would say that we are past the point of seduction, Pellaeon." 

"Seduction? My dear, this--" he paused to press another kiss to his hand, "--is mere flirtation. If proper seduction is what you want though, then it would be my pleasure to give it to you." 

Thrawn hummed, smile deepening just a hair and Pellaeon cannot help his own heartbeat speeding up in response. "I will admit your idea of seduction is rather appealing." 

Pellaeon remembers earlier, how his hands had groped over Thrawn as the Admiral clung to him, unable to do much more than gasp and moan and nod. A shiver darts down Pellaeon's spine. "I can see why."

Thrawn arched a single eyebrow in amusement and pulled his hand from Pellaeon's grasp. Pellaeon doesn't watch it go but he can feel the loss of skin contact and the warmth it had brought. There is hardly a moment for that small connection to be missed; Pellaeon barely has enough time to lower his released hand before Thrawn's arm has circled around him, his palm pressed into the space between his shoulder blades. "Come," is all the alien says before leading him off, deeper into his personal quarters. 

Pellaeon adjusted to the change quickly enough, and relinquished the slight loss of control over the situation calmly. After walking in on Thrawn that first night he supposes the man deserves a little bit of control over this in his own room - as long as he doesn't start getting any ideas about who is going to be taking charge once they hit the mattress Pellaeon doesn't have a problem with it. 

It is strange though, to want to have that control so strongly. Thrawn himself certainly seemed to enjoy it, but it wasn't usually something Pellaeon wanted. He wasn't quite sure what about Thrawn gave him that thrill, if it was simply because he was his superior or if it had been that damnable black lace. _That_ was certainly something that had never come into play with his past male partners. He had to wonder if it was something he had always liked and just never knew, or if it was Thrawn specifically that he liked them on. 

He doesn't know, and _now_ certainly isn't the time to be introspective on possible kinks, but he will admit that Thrawn in lace had a certain appeal. 

Thrawn came to a stop and it pulled Pellaeon out of his thoughts. Thrawn had led them into what appeared to be some sort of living room, with a small couch and two chairs, with a short table placed in between them. Realizing what Thrawn wanted, Pellaeon moved himself towards the couch and sat, reaching down to tug off his boots before allowing himself relax into the cushions. Softness was such a rarity on a warship, and Pellaeon would enjoy the sensation while it lasted. 

Thrawn turned away to grab two short glasses off of the table, each filled with a burgundy liquid, and he held one out for Pellaeon. As soon as he took the offered drink Thrawn is sitting, curling up next to him so he's pressed up against Pellaeon's side and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. A smile spreads across Pellaeon's lips unbidden as he slips his own arm around Thrawn's waist, holding him close. 

There's a quiet  _tink_ as Thrawn clicks their glasses together. "Cheers." 

Pellaeon muffles a laugh by bringing his glass to his lips at the monotone voice Thrawn speaks the word with, and they both take a sip of the dark liquid. It isn't something Pellaeon has tasted before but the flavor is divine, the burn pleasing, and he hums in appreciation. 

"Do you always drink before going to bed with someone?" Pellaeon asks with a smile.

"Of course not," Thrawn replies. "I was worried that you might have been nervous about this and thought a drink might help. You have surprised me though, Pellaeon, in more ways than one today." 

"If you do not mind, I think just Gilad will do for now." 

"I don't, but only if you call me by my name as well Gilad." 

"Thrawn it is, then." 

The name feels so odd in his mouth now, when his mind isn't too clouded with arousal to even realize that he's saying it without his rank or a "sir" anywhere near it. 

Thrawn had given him permission to use only his name, and with permission came presumptions. 

Pellaeon received a small, pleased smile in return, but it slips away just as quickly. "Before anything else, I will mention that we are going to have to talk about this arrangement later."

"Later?" Pellaeon repeated with a half smile. Of course he hadn't expected the Admiral to sit him down and immediately start digging through lists of old regulations on fraternization to see what loopholes they could exploit but he had been dreading the possibility. 

Pellaeon received a nod in response and a second later Thrawn has the glass pressed back against his lips and tossed it back, finishing off the rest of the drink on one final gulp. Pellaeon almost commented on it but his eyes are drawn to the man's throat as he swallows, and any thought slipped from his mind as he watched his Adam's apple bob. He has to bite the inside of his cheek at the images that sight alone raises. 

Thrawn caught his eye as he lowered the glass, a hint of something that made Pellaeon stomach's curl delightfully glittering in his own red ones. "If you're wondering if I always swallow, then the answer is yes." 

There is a single moment when Pellaeon thinks he's about to burst into a fit of embarrassed laughter at how absurd that is - that an Imperial Grand Admiral just told him that he _swallows_ \- but it only translates as a groan. A groan that becomes muffled as Thrawn leaned in to press their lips together. It feels amazing, and it shouldn't, it shouldn't feel any different than it had a few hours ago when Pellaeon was gripping the other man by his collar and shoving their mouths together, but it does. 

This isn't some heated romp in a meeting room. This is slower, methodical. 

The arousal is still there, _stars above is it there_ , but the need to rush is gone. Pellaeon wants to take as much time as he can stand with this; he wants to take Thrawn apart. 

Their lips separate, and Pellaeon barely has enough time to take a breath before Thrawn is on him again, taking advantage of his parted lips by pushing his tongue into his mouth. 

 _There_ it is - that desperation from before. 

He can feel it in the hands buried in his hair, in the tenseness of Thrawn's body where it is pressed against his own. Thrawn telegraphs his need in the press of his tongue, and in his moan when Pellaeon presses back, in the way he gasps and shivers when Pellaeon reaches around him to grab a handful of his ass. 

His desire, his need, is almost palatable and Pellaeon realized that while he may have had a chance to come once tonight already, Thrawn may not have. 

The idea appeals to him just a little too much. 

Thrawn pulls back just enough to gasp for breath, eyes sliding open so he can study Pellaeon through his eyelashes. "You're wearing too much." 

"So are you." 

Never would Pellaeon had thought that you could describe Thrawn as salacious, but the smirk that slid across his lips held promises that Pellaeon prayed he planned on keeping. He slipped away from the other man, stood up from the couch, and Pellaeon had to fight himself to keep his hands from reaching out and pulling Thrawn back against him.

Thrawn's hands reached down to Pellaeon's knees and pushed at them, spread Pellaeon's legs and stepped forwards to stand between them once they were wide enough for him.

Pellaeon's eyes are glued to the sight before him, eyes flicking between Thrawn's eyes and his hands as he tries to decide which one to watch. The pressure of hands sliding up his thighs is what grabs his attention and Pellaeon groaned as he stared at blue skin inching towards his crotch. 

The hands stop before they get where they are wanted and Pellaeon has to fight to keep himself still. He heard Thrawn whisper his name and glances up to stare back into those red eyes. Eyes that all of the other crew members seemed to find too intimidating to meet, and now Pellaeon cannot even see why anyone would think that. 

"Watch," Thrawn murmured as he stood up to his full height, hands lifting up and towards the knot in the robe's belt that has kept the piece of clothing closed. Pellaeon obeyed, and watched his hands as Thrawn slowly undid the knot, allowed the ends of the belt slip through his fingers until they fell, held up by nothing but the loops sewn into the robe. He's moving too slow and too fast - Pellaeon wants to see what is beneath the robe and the suspense is killing him, but a part of him wants to stay on the precipice forever with nothing but the gazes and the anticipation. The robe shifts and Pellaeon's eyes glanced down to take in the few exposed inches of Thrawn's chest, but Thrawn moved carefully enough that nothing else is exposed. 

He thought he heard Thrawn repeat his previous command, but it's barely even a whisper and could have easily been imagined because Pellaeon is certainly watching as Thrawn moves to slip the robe off of one shoulder, then the other. Pellaeon watches it's decent down Thrawn's arms, eyes taking in the expanse of skin and lithe muscles as they are exposed to him. A pang of arousal rushes through him so hard it hurts as Pellaeon realizes just how much he wants this man. 

When the robe reaches his wrists Thrawn simply lets it fall to the ground but Pellaeon does not see it. His eyes are set ahead of himself, on the pair of dark regulation underwear and the red thigh highs below them. 

He glanced up to see Thrawn staring back and he realizes that the red lace matches his eyes, and that has to have been something he did on purpose. The thought that Thrawn would have put that effort into his appearance, into making himself look good, is enough to make his cock twitch. 

"Damn."

Thrawn makes a sound - it sounds like a chuckle but Pellaeon has never heard the Admiral laugh before and he doesn't look up to check. "You can touch them if you'd like."

Pellaeon scoffs; he knows that he can touch Thrawn if he wants to that was practically the point of this meeting. To have Thrawn invite his touch though, that adds a whole new level of arousal to the pit of his stomach. _He wants this just as much as I do. Nothing has changed since the meeting room._

As much as Pellaeon wants to have this man rutting up against him, he is willing to wait on it. This moment is something to be treasured: the first time Thrawn stands before him bared and _asks_ for his touch. 

Pellaeon reached out and pressed his hands against the smooth material and a sigh escaped him. _Hell,_ they felt just as good as they looked. They're soft against the few callouses on Pellaeon's hands and he can't help but rub his palms across the material. The desire to press his face into Thrawn's thighs and feel the silky thigh highs against his face is strong, but he just barely manages to keep himself from doing something so embarrassing. 

Damn, does he want to do it though. That, and so much more. 

"You're gorgeous." Pellaeon doesn't even realize he's spoken until the words are out, but he can't bring himself to feel embarrassed. They both know that it is true, and with the way Pellaeon is mooning over Thrawn he's sure that he already knows how the Captain feels. There's a part of him that needs Thrawn to know this though, and it's ridiculous but he hopes that all of his thoughts are conveyed with those two words. 

Fingers caught his chin and tilted his head up, and lips press against his own in a way that's almost chaste. Pellaeon hums into the kiss and Thrawn climbs back into his lap, legs straddling Pellaeon's own. The feeling of lips against his and silky material beneath his hands is almost too much for Pellaeon, and he moaned, roving his palms over the thigh highs. He can feel hands at the collar of his uniform and he followed their movements with his body as Thrawn unfastens it and shoves the tunic down his arms. 

He pulls his hands away long enough to get his arms free of the uniform but his hands are back in a second, wrapped around the backs of Thrawn's thighs, pressed into the few inches of space between the red elastic bands and the crease where Thrawn's ass meets his thighs. The skin there is smooth and soft - almost as soft as the thigh highs - and Pellaeon can't help but to slide his hands upwards until he has two handfuls of Thrawn's ass and squeezed. 

The alien gasped and pushed back into his hands before shifting his weight forwards, and Pellaeon feels the bulge in Thrawn's underwear press up against his own erection. He can't keep his concentration and he lets his head fall back against the couch as Thrawn starts grinding down against him. 

"Fuck, _please_ ," Pellaeon panted, gasped for air - he feels like he'll never again be able to catch his breath. "Please let me have you." 

Thrawn stared down at him, hips still rocking back and forth as he pants. "Gilad, you hardly have to ask." 

After that Pellaeon doesn't know how they got from the couch to bed - he recalls surging up against Thrawn, shoving their mouths together in a clash of lips and teeth and tongues, then the two of them stumbling blindly until Thrawn bumped into the mattress. They separate to catch their breaths and Thrawn slipped his hands up Pellaeon's chest, running his palms against him over his undershirt. His touch is oddly gentle. It does not quite fit with the desire in his eyes. "I believe you promised to put me in my place?" 

"Thrawn," Pellaeon moans and he presses their lips back together. He slips a hand between them and shoves at Thrawn's chest until he falls back onto the bed. He moves himself backwards farther onto the mattress, legs spreading as Pellaeon climbs in between them. "I hardly have to put you anywhere, with you so willing to do it yourself." 

"And I don't even make you say please for it," Thrawn said, a hand grabbing the front of Pellaeon's shirt to pull him closer. "How polite of me." 

"Keep talking like that and I'll put you over my knee." 

He had expected Thrawn to huff at him, to tell him not to make childish threats, but instead he goes oddly quiet and there is an intrigued look in his eyes. Pellaeon arches an eyebrow at him in question, surprised but considering it and now that he's thinking about it the idea is very appealing - no, _no._

Pellaeon gives his head a shake to clear it, puts his hands on the other man's covered thighs to remind himself that there is a goal to tonight. _Keep this on track_ , he tells himself even as he files away the idea for a later time. ' _Later time'_ , he chides himself, _presumptuous_. He can have his hopes though, numerous and wishful as they are. "Tell me you have lube." 

"Of course I do, it's in the drawer." He lifts a hand and points towards the nightstand beside the bed. Pellaeon starts to reach for it but Thrawn grabs his wrist out of the air. "But you should not have any need of it," his smile deepens as he pulls Pellaeon's hand in between his legs, presses his fingers against his ass. "Not for me." 

Pellaeon presses his fingers against Thrawn and has to close his eyes as he groans. He can feel the wetness of lube from where it has soaked through his underwear against his skin. He presses his fingers harder and feels a little more drip out of him. The image of Thrawn splayed out, fingers shoved up into himself with enough lube that he is still dripping, gasping Pellaeon's name fills his mind. It's enough to make him shudder in anticipation. 

He slides his hand upwards to drag his fingers over Thrawn's hardening cock. His hips roll upwards to meet Pellaeon's hand, and he lets his fingers rub over where a wet spot has formed on Thrawn's underwear until he gets a moan out of the other man. "I am going to ruin you." 

Thrawn's answering " _Yes_ ," is barely anything more than a gasp. 

Pellaeon presses his lips to Thrawn's before pulling away to tug his undershirt over his head. "Take those off," he demands, motioning a hand towards Thrawn's underwear as he tosses the shirt aside and begins working on his pants. 

There's a small voice in the back of Pellaeon's mind that reminds him that this is the Grand Admiral, leader of the Empire, who was on his back for him, legs wrapped in silk. It makes his hands tremble and it takes a bit of work to get his pants undone - that his eyes keep glancing up to watch Thrawn as he slides his own underwear off of his ass and down his legs isn't making it any easier. 

His eyes fall on the newly exposed skin and he sees nothing that is particularly shocking about Thrawn's genitals. Pellaeon is grateful for the familiarity. It's going to make this much easier and while he doesn't mind a little exploration every once in a while he does not want to waste anytime trying to figure out how a completely different set of anatomy works. He gets his pants off and his own underwear is quick to follow and he's back on the bed. 

Thrawn's hands come up to cup the sides of Pellaeon's face, and as he's pulled down for another kiss Pellaeon reaches down between them and pressed two fingers into him just to test the stretch. They slid in with such ease that Pellaeon had to bite back a moan. 

"Have you come yet? Since earlier today, I mean?" 

Thrawn shook his head, ass grinding down onto Pellaeon's fingers as his hands slid down to grip Pellaeon's shoulders. "No." 

"Good," Pellaeon murmured and curled his fingers, pressing them up against his prostate. The reaction he received - the arch of Thrawn's back, and the choked off groan - was absolutely gorgeous. Just watching it made him want to palm at himself. Pellaeon only hums, doing his best to seem somewhat unaffected by Thrawn riding his hand, head tossed back, as he starts gently circling the bump with his fingertips. "It's been a while since you've let someone touch you, hasn't it?" 

It's a bit of a shot in the dark, based only on Thrawn's desperation and that Pellaeon can't really imagine the Admiral willingly carving out enough free time for himself to actually get laid. When Thrawn gives him a nod in response though Pellaeon smirks. Honestly he doesn't even know why he doubts himself. Thrawn's hands come down to clutch at the bed sheet, hips rocking along with the thrust of Pellaeon's fingers - of course, it's been awhile for him.

"I'll admit, I'm a little disappointed that you didn't leave this part to me. I do appreciate the time it saves, although asking to be invited so I can watch next time doesn't sound like too much does it?" A soft, choked hum and something quiet that sounded suspiciously like begging was all Pellaeon got from Thrawn in response and he chuckled. "I didn't think so either." 

Another pass of his fingers makes Thrawn whimper and hiss his name and Pellaeon decides that enough is enough, moving backwards to free himself from between Thrawn's legs. "Roll over." 

There was no hesitation to obey the command. The sight of Thrawn up on his knees and elbows, with his ass in the air and the red thigh highs shimmering in the low lighting - Pellaeon had to grip himself at the base of his dick to keep himself under control. He glanced over to the drawer Thrawn said his lube was in and he debated getting it for a second before reaching over with a huff. 

He wasn't wholly sure if he could keep himself from coming while he slicked himself up, but he'd rather risk it than hurt the other man. With the tube in his hand he wasted no time in squirting some out and spreading the slick substance over himself, trying to be as careful as he could. 

A sound caught his attention and he looked up to see Thrawn looking back at him over his shoulder. He cocked a dark eyebrow at Pellaeon, arched his back invitingly, and the Captain swore under his breath. He capped the tube as best he could before tossing it back into the drawer, climbing up onto the bed behind Thrawn. Caution could wait until after he was inside this man. His hands found Thrawn's hips and he gripped them tightly - although he couldn't help but let one of them slide down to palm at the top of a thigh high, slipping a thumb into the elastic band and pulling it back only to release it with a snap. 

That same hand wrapped around the base of his cock and he pressed himself up against Thrawn's hole with a relieved sigh. He started to slide himself in, as slowly as he could stand, and the both of them gasped at the sensation. Thrawn was so warm inside and there was little resistance to Pellaeon's gentle pushing; he realized that he wasn't going to last long. If the desperate sound that came from Thrawn's lips was anything to go by then neither would he. 

Deep in as he could go, Pellaeon paused to concentrate on just breathing. A swear slipped out of his mouth as Thrawn tightened himself around him for a second, testing the waters. He gave a satisfied hum and pushed back onto Pellaeon. "Whenever you're ready," he teased and Pellaeon grit his teeth. 

Well, then. He shifted his grip on Thrawn's hips and pulled back out before thrusting back in a bit harder than he normally would have. There was a surprised gasp and his legs slid open a little more, and Pellaeon could see that his hands were already clutching the sheet. The image spurns his hips forwards and Pellaeon works himself into a pace that's quick, intense. It feels just as good as he had hoped, and with the way Thrawn is moaning, pressing back to meet his thrusts, he agrees. 

"I should have had you on your back. Would've been able to see your face then." _Would've been able to hold your legs up, press my face into that beautiful material while I fucked into you._ That sends a pang of arousal straight to his cock so hard it makes his hips stutter. He swears under his breath, takes a second to tighten his grip on Thrawn's waist before finding his rhythm again. 

Thrawn only moans beneath him, "There's always next time Gilad." 

A next time! Pellaeon almost sags with relief at the conformation that this was not just some one-night stand. The thought has him curling himself over Thrawn's back, pressing his forehead against the top of his shoulder. It changes the angle of his thrusts and Thrawn gasps loudly, divulging into a moan as his ass pushes back against Pellaeon. _Found it_ , he thinks and he slides his hands down to Thrawn's hips in an effort to keep him still. 

The man makes a desperate noise in the back of his throat, but one of his hands slip back to press against Pellaeon's own. 

Pellaeon lifted his head to press a kiss to his jaw. "Do you think you can come just from this? Without anything touching your cock?" 

A full-body shiver ran through Thrawn's body, and his hand tightened on Pellaeon's own. He didn't respond at first but he turned his head to bury his face into his pillow - it did little to muffle his moan and Pellaeon smirked. He heard Thrawn swear softly before turning back. "No, not tonight, please Gilad--" 

"Hush." He kissed Thrawn's cheek. "Perhaps we'll try that later, but not tonight," he agreed and paused in his thrusts to situate his weight on his legs so he could reach his free hand beneath Thrawn. He runs his palm over the head of his cock, gathering up as much fluid as he can, before wrapping his hand around his dick and pumping it. The sound that leaves Thrawn's throat sounds pained, ruined. It's such a twisted mix of sweet agony and ecstasy that Pellaeon can't help but kiss along his skin in apology. 

He didn't let up, and Thrawn's hips started thrusting forwards to meet Pellaeon's hand, a litany of gasps and  _Yes's_  spilling from his lips. His head dropping forwards and his shoulders tensing are the only warning Pellaeon gets before Thrawn is coming, moaning Pellaeon's name as spurts of cum shoot out onto the bed sheet and over Pellaeon's hand. The sudden tightness around his cock is almost overwhelming and Pellaeon's hips stutter but his hand doesn't stop and he keeps fucking Thrawn through his orgasm as best he can. 

Below him, he can feel Thrawn go limp and Pellaeon pushes himself back upright so he doesn't crush the man as he lets his arms slide out from under him until his upper body is pressed into the pillow beneath him. His ass is still up in the air, held up by Pellaeon's hands but he can still feel Thrawn tightening himself around Pellaeon's cock. 

 _I should have asked him to bring out his mirror_. The thought of seeing Thrawn come undone below him from a new angle - an angle that would have allowed Pellaeon to see everything all at once should he had wanted to - tipped him over the edge. He thrust himself as deep as he could into Thrawn and came with a shout. 

Everything seems to surge forwards, and then come back as Pellaeon slumps. He's careful not to put any weight on Thrawn as he slips out of him and sits back. His arms can barely hold himself up but it's that or falling over backwards on the bed. Thrawn himself seems more relaxed and lets himself slump as he slowly rolls himself over until he's on his back, legs folded up and panting softly. Pellaeon wrapped his hand around Thrawn's calf and leans over to let his cheek rest against the same leg's knee. They both sit in silence for a minute, just trying to catch their breaths in the calm afterglow. 

"So," Pellaeon starts, "how many pairs of these things do you have?" 

"Five. Two black, and then gray, white, and red, one of each." 

Pellaeon nods absently. He imagines each of the colors on Thrawn, but the white sticks out. Thrawn in a pair of thigh highs that actually match his uniform, ordering him around in nothing else - Pellaeon's cock makes a commendable effort to get hard again at the thought. He can feel eyes on him but refuses to meet them. If he saw Thrawn smirking at him now he doesn't know what he would do. "Nothing else to go with them though?" 

Well, it's not the smoothest subject change he'd ever attempted but if it would get them away from the topic of _white_ for a while he'd take it. 

"You mean panties?" Pellaeon gives him a nod, still not meeting his eyes. Okay, maybe it was the worse subject change he'd ever attempted. "No, nothing like that. I would have some but I can't risk getting caught with something like that. Not while we are still at war with the rebellion." 

It makes sense, but Pellaeon can't help but feel a little disappointed. "Well, as long as it isn't a morale issue I can see what you mean, because if that's what has you worried, then I hate to tell you, but you're completely underestimating what our crew can handle." 

"Am I now? What would you suggest then, beat the rebellion to it and just start selling images of myself like this?" 

"Are you joking? Seeing their fearless leader posing seductively in something like this? Morale would skyrocket." 

Thrawn's expression is bordering on incredulous but the smile curling his lips upwards is giving away his attempt at seeming unaffected. "You can't be serious Gilad." 

"I'm telling you: holo-calendars. We'd make a fortune. Cure the budgeting issues in one sales period. I'd even bet that performance percentages would go up." 

That gets a genuine laugh out of Thrawn, a sound that he had been convinced the alien was incapable of making, so Pellaeon supposes that he can mark tonight down as a complete success. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After working on this for so long, it's finally done!! I really hope you guys enjoyed it, especially the last chapter. A lot of love was put into this and I really hope that it showed. It was a bit more of a challenge to write than I had expected, so I'd love to know what you thought of it! 
> 
> I'm not gonna lie though I really barreled through a huge amount of this in like three days because I wanted to get done with it before I left on a trip and tbh this fic sort of hit a rut where if I make the effort to hit that deadline I wasn't entirely sure if I would've ever finished it. Performance anxiety and all that, you know. I'd consider this my first real attempt at prolonged smut so hey, I don't really know what I'm doing and if there's any weirdness then feel free to point it out! Otherwise I'll look over it and touch it up when I get back home.
> 
> I'd also like to thank all the people who left a comment on this! Even if I didn't respond, I read them all an they really helped me get through this.


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